Read Online The Tudor Signet by Carola Dunn - Free Book Online Page A

you put up with her.”
    “When Frederick died, Mama insisted that I must have someone to lend me countenance. It came down to a choice of Tabitha Thorne--she is Frederick’s cousin, you know, not ours--”
    “Thank heaven!”
    “...Or Aunt Wilhelmina.”
    “Good Lord, what a choice. I’m not sure I wouldn’t prefer Aunt W., though.”
    “Once I had asked Cousin Tabitha to come and live at Corycombe, it became impossible to send her away. She has been saying for years that she only stays to oblige and her brother wants her to keep house for him, but when I suggest his claim is the greater....” She sighed.
    “You are too soft-hearted.”
    “That is what she says,” Lilian pointed out crossly. “She reprimanded me as though I were still in the schoolroom for taking Miss Bertrand in. Now I shall have to endure a lecture on my folly in taking her back when she clearly wishes to go home. Malcolm, do you know why she ran off?”
    “No.” He could not speak of Miss Bertrand’s desire to return the ring to her cousin without inviting a host of further questions impossible to answer.
    “I pray it was not I who drove her away. She said one or two odd things--nothing so very dreadful, as I should know who have five brothers! But I fear I failed to hide my dismay. I behaved just like Cousin Tabitha, in fact! I shall never forgive myself if Miss Bertrand left because she felt unwelcome.”
    “You are incapable of behaving like Cousin Tabitha! I wager your dismay was nought but a fleeting expression, not a regular Bill of Attainder. It’s more likely to be my fault. Considering the...unfortunate circumstances of our first encounter, no doubt she was simply overwhelmed with embarrassment at the prospect of seeing me again.” Malcolm made the suggestion to comfort Lilian, but he was suddenly horribly afraid it might be true.
    “Fustian! Your fault, for saving her life? Twice now! Her chief emotion must be gratitude.”
    “Come now, Lilian, you must own she has cause for embarrassment. Any virtuous female of the slightest sensibility must be mortified to know a gentleman has made himself familiar with her--”
    “Malcolm! My dear, spare my blushes. You are right, of course, and I do believe Miss Bertrand to be virtuous and not without sensibility. Yet she agreed to see you last night. You did not give her further cause for awkwardness?”
    “Certainly not. She talked freely, argued with me in fact!” He smiled, remembering her spirited defence, her insistence on paying for the ring. “She must have had some other reason for running off in the middle of the night without a word. I daresay she was muddled by the laudanum. What on earth was that pink garment she had on under her coat?”
    “Mrs. Wittering’s best dressing gown.”
    “Mrs. Wittering’s!” Malcolm tried to imagine the stout housekeeper in pink quilted satin instead of her usual black.
    “Mine and Emmie’s are too small and I will not ask Cousin Tabitha after the fuss she made over lending a nightgown, let alone helping me dress her in it.” Lilian frowned in thought. “Mrs. Wittering lent her dressing gown gladly so perhaps she will not mind sitting with Miss Bertrand sometimes, though it is hardly part of her duties. I offered to send to the Manor for Miss Bertrand’s abigail but the poor girl has none.”
    “You will be short-handed with neither Miss Thorne nor Emily to help. I shall take my turn.”
    “My dear brother, even without considering--in your own words--the unfortunate circumstances of your first encounter, absolutely not!”
    “I hope to marry her, Lilian,” Malcolm said quietly.
    Lilian’s jaw dropped. “B-but you hardly know her!”
    “I know her well enough to admire her courage, her spirit, her...” He must not speak of her loyalty to her cousin. “Her beauty. Well enough to know my mind.”
    “Oh, Mama is constantly writing to tell me you are in love again,” Lilian recalled with obvious relief.
    “I can’t deny I